Company
by A.D. Rath
Summary: OE! Loneliness can sometimes get the best of even the strongest people. Elliot has nothing left to loose or so he thinks. So who can he depend on to help pick up the pieces of his life when he looses control of it?
1. A divorce

**A/N: This was one of those fics that plagued me and kept me from slumber until I got out of bed and jotted down my ideas. Inspired by the episode "Ripped" I give you the humble beginnings of "Company". Rated OE for some Liv and Elliot action! Enjoy!**

She felt his eyes boring into the top of her head. She pretended not to notice as she closed her eyes to the paperwork in front of her and took a deep breath. _Here we go. _She couldn't help but sigh because she could feel the heat and lust from his gaze and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

"I asked her for a divorce."

She still didn't look up. She took a moment to gather her thoughts and calm her emotions, constructing her cold, hard, protective shell against him and those piercing electric blue eyes of his. She looked up with a sad smile. "I'm sorry Elliot."

The look in his deep blue eyes was heartbreaking. She knew he was taking the separation badly. It was, well, a separation. He was separated from his children, his wife of twenty years, and the only life he has ever known. He was alone and he wasn't handling his recently acquired status very well at all. And now a divorce! She figured it was settling in fast that his new tittle was a permanent one.

She stood and grabbed her black wool jacket tossing him his. "Let's get a drink." She glanced at her watch which read 2am. "It's been a long day. These files will be here when we get back."

"The only constant thing in my life," he mumbled as he took his jacket from her and stormed out of the station.

Olivia winced at the comment relived he wasn't there to witness the pain his words had caused her. She bit her lip and took a deep breath slowly following his lead.

He was hurt she reasoned to herself as she caught up with him. He was so use to her presence in his life that he took it for granted. Yes that was it. He was so use to leaning on her and borrowing from her strength just to make it through each day that it just didn't register with him that he could loose her too. She was his partner afterall. It was only natural she assumed. They were one in the same. She felt an ache in the pit of her stomach. She just wasn't quite sure she was okay with that.

"Jack and coke" Elliot stated as he pushed through the doors of McMullens sitting at the first available bar stool.

Olivia sat beside him. "MillerLite please."

They sat in silence as they usually did... at least as they usually had for the past few months since he had... separated.

They got their drinks simultaneously. Olivia took a long swing of hers ice cold beer as Elliot finished his in one gulp and signaled for another.

"Listen Liv... I just wanted to let you know..." he scratched the back of his head fishing for words.

Olivia sighed. Why did men always have such a hard time with emotions? But who was she to talk? She was the queen of one night stands. A firm supporter of the "Love 'em and Leave 'em" motto. She admitted she was a cold, hard bitch, but then again, that came with the job, with her past. So why was she, no, why has she since the day she laid eyes on him been such a push over, dare she even say softie with Elliot Stabler?

She looked down at her bottle as he clumsily stumbled over his words.

"I...well... thanks," he managed as his second drink arrived.

She smiled absently in his direction. "No problem Stabler." She knew what he was trying to get at. "Thanks" for all the nights she took him out for drinks where they both just sat in silence comfortable just knowing that for a few hours they could escape the loneliness that was waiting for them back at their apartments. "Thanks" for the kid gloves she'd been handling him with for the past few months. "Thanks" for all the slack she was picking up for him. "Thanks" for the boundless patience she exerted just for him. "Thanks" for the times he'd show up at her apartment in the middle of the night and just sit next to her and never say a word. "Thanks" for the times he'd show up and talk the night away. The list went on and on.

She watched him down two more as she finished off her beer. "Come on Elliot before I get you too drunk to finish our paperwork."

He smirked at her. "You kiddin' me? I'm not drunk. I've seen you down this much and still kick some guy's ass for looking at you the wrong way."

"And as I recall it, I ended up going home with that guy after one more drink," she replied slapping down thirty dollars and pulling Elliot up off the stool.

"At least let me pay Liv."

"Keep your wallet in your pocket Stabler," she teased as she pulled him out of the bar into the chilly September night.

He slipped his arm through hers pulling her close. "For warmth," he explained with an innocent smile as she shot him a questioning glare.

The two walked silently arm in arm and lost in thought, Elliot cold and somber and Olivia rigid and contemplative. This was common as of lately. She catch a momentary breakdown of his defenses and get a glimpse of raw emotion, but then it would disappear and his affect would flatten once again deadening his emotions to everything leaving her feeling confused and a little bit used at the same time. She hated this recently acquired pattern of his. It drove her absolutely crazy that he could do that to her, but mostly that she let him continue to do it. She, however, was helpless to do anything about it. He pushed away and stayed away if she pried too hard, yet she was in too deep with him to completely put an end to it. He needed someone, and the way she saw it, he had no one but her.

She stifled a yawn as they reached the precinct.

"Hey Liv why don't you go home and try to get a few hours of sleep and let me take care of the paperwork. You know for the drinks and all," Elliot offered.

"It wasn't a bribe Elliot," she stated defensively.

"I know but you see I have this huge male pride that is bruised right now because I let you pay for our drinks so call it an act of chivalry," he smiled.

"My how old fashioned of you," she stated with a role of her eyes.

He laughed and followed suit.

"Alright. But promise me you won't stay too much longer Elliot. I'll come in early to take care of what's left alright?" She bargained.

"Deal. G'night Liv."

"Goodnight.," she hissed through chattering teeth as he disappeared inside. She knew full well he was lying through his teeth and would spend the night in the cribs. She shook her head as she made her way to her car. "And so it continues for another day," she whispered to the cold, empty night looking back over her shoulder at the station house.

**A/N: Alright darlings so there it is. Please take a tiny little second and leave me an itty bitty review! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Empathy

**A/N : Just wanted to take a second to thank everyone for all their kind reviews that made my ego so happy and gave my pride a huge boost! I'm so glad you guys responded so well to this! I wasn't to sure about it, it's not my usual style, and it's a lot more simple then any of my other fics, but I'm happy you guys are! So thank you so very much to everyone who left a review! Now I give you chapter 2 of "Company." Enjoy!**

Chapter 2

Olivia stood on the steps of the one-six shivering with only two piping hot mocha lattees and a steaming bag of sticky buns to offer her warmth.

"Damn," she muttered to herself for not grabbing more then a denim jacket before she left her apartment. She looked at her watch as she tried to balance everything in one hand and open the door with the other. 6:30am. Three hours of sleep. No wonder everything seemed to require more effort. But perhaps her early in would earn her an early out. She watched as the sirens of an ambulance pierced her eardrums followed by a flash of red and white. She released a loud sigh. Oh well, a girl can dream.

She smiled as she entered the bullpen and removed her jacket. Today she was first in instead of Munch which meant today there would be actual coffee instead of the watered down coffee grinds in the form of a pasty sludge that Munch passed off as coffee. She placed her lattees and pastries on her desk and her jacket on the back of her chair gazing over at the coffee pot on a lonely table in the corner of the open room. It was full. She chewed her bottom lip taking a few long strides over to the table. And still warm.

"Damn man," she muttered shaking her head in disgust as she made her way back to her desk. "Damn pigheaded man," she reiterated as she examined his mess of a desk. He had a few files open, three more waiting to be completed, and a dozen or so waiting to be filed away. A handful of coke cans and an empty coffee mug also littered his catch all of a desk. "Oh Elliot," she mumbled to herself while passing his chair skidding her nails over his jacket from the day before as she softly made her way to the crib.

The dim light of the early morning cast a glow onto the otherwise dark bunks illuminating Elliot's sleeping figure. She moved beside him gently calling his name.

He reached out in his deep state of sleep to hit at an imaginary alarm clock.

She smirked and shoved him in his chest. "Oh wake up!"

He blinked rapidly as he focused in on her softened face.

"I thought I told you to go home Stabler."

He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his face. "Yea so? You tell me to do a lot of things. Doesn't mean they get done."

She rolled her eyes at him at him and sighed to herself. Lately he'd been spending more and more nights in the crib then in his own bed. It was hard to watch.

He looked up into her gentle empathetic eyes. "I know what you mean Liv," he sighed without every having to hear her say it. He knew already. He knew she understood, but also that she was scared and desperately worried about him. "Don't say it. I just can't stand the empty feeling you know?"

She nodded. "Yea. I do," she stated softly, and, in a move surprising them both, reached out and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and neck pulling him into an embrace.

He, in turn, wrapped his arms tight around her waist placing his head just above her breasts.

In that moment, neither felt so hopeless, like victims of uncontrollable circumstances. He didn't feel like another failing example of statistics and she didn't feel like a cliché lyric from some '80's hair metal song. There was only warmth and they felt oddly whole from their desperate attempt at an empathetic connection. After all, she wasn't too experienced with raw emotional intimacy, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to feel another person on such deeply a level so soon.

She skimmed her berry colored nails across the nape of his neck as he starred into her expresso colored eyes. Then again...

Her lips crashed down onto his before either had time to second guess their gut feelings.

... maybe they were just Elliot and Olivia, two lost souls reaching out for more from each other then just friendship and partnership finding understanding and comfort in something seemingly familiar but glaringly foreign.

She slid her fingers across his neck and into the open collar of his turquoise dress shirt scorching every inch of his cool skin she came in contact with. He, in turn, slipped his hands from her waist up inside the warm fabric of her fitted pink t-shirt that he pulled loose from the confinement of her hip riding dark brown corduroys.

Elliot moaned her name against her burning ruby lips as they parted briefly, their faces merely millimeters apart. She offered him half a smirk that complimented her smoky, darkened eyes as she climbed onto the bed her knees pressing against his outer thighs pinning him on the bed while forcing him backwards and her higher above him.

"Benson, my office now!" the captain's voice bellowed from somewhere down in the bullpen.

In the moment it took him to register the intrusive page, she was gone leaving him confused, heated, and stiff.

**A/N: So I'm leaving you hanging my little darlings. HeHe :) If you liked it, let me know! I LOVE feedback! Thank you for reading!**


	3. Frustration

**AN: I know it has been forever since I've updated but had a writer's block the size of China preventing me from doing anything but stare hypnotically at my blank computer screen. This is the third rewrite of this chapter and I'm still not completely sure I like it, but I'm out of ideas to try for it. I think I may have peeked to soon action wise. So please please please keep feeding me your reviews, thoughts, ideas, and comments. I'm a slave to my readers. I hope ya'll enjoy the chapter!**

Chapter 3

It took Elliot all of the hour he had before he had to clock in until he made it down to the bullpen. He had stood under a blast of icy water until he was blue, yet he could still feel the trail of burnt skin Olivia's fingers had left in the wake of their brief embrace. Six months was just too long to go without any physical contact from a woman and his body was making damn sure he understood that. He did...loud and clear. He ached. He ached for more of her.

He shook his head of the desire-laden daze as he descended the stairs into the bullpen.

"Elliot it's about damn time! Fin's got court today, Olivia's catching, and you and John are interrogating a suspect about the Evans case," Cragen informed him nodding first in the direction of the interview room where he caught a glimpse of Olivia comforting a distraught young redhead, then nodding at Munch who was sliding out of his chair, then, finally shoving a manila file into Elliot's chest before walking back in the direction of his office. "Learn it...like ten minutes ago!" he growled over his shoulder.

Munch lifted his eyebrow quizzically as Elliot shrugged his shoulders in response and slipped into his rigid chair, immediately diving into the file familiarizing himself with Munch and Fin's case.

It was that of nine year old Kylie Evans found brutally raped and strangled behind the dumpster of Tony's pizzeria in lower Manhattan. Rape kit turned up the presence of spermicide. Cause of death looks to be asphyxiation. CSU found foreign hairs on the body and a smudged fingerprint on the dumpster parallel to the body. Six point match to a Jack Evans, uncle of the deceased minor. Parents divorced, mother Leslie Parker Evans granted custody of deceased minor; current whereabouts unknown. Father currently residing in Atlanta Georgia. Autopsy results pending.

He skimmed over the crime scene pictures in order to try and cap and control the rage he could feel brimming behind his fierce eyes. God it was too early for a case like this! But then again, when was it ever a good time for something like that? It never got easier for him, only harder. Especially since the separation from his kids, the very ones he put his life on the line for everyday so that they could walk the streets of New York feeling a little safer. Did he make any kind of difference? He looked down at the glossy photo of blue eyed little Kylie, who's wide, innocent smile glittered from behind her tight brown curls. He was beginning to think he really didn't, and possibly never did.

Munch cleared his throat snapping Elliot's focus from the picture to his temporary partner for the day. "Had enough?"

Elliot wrinkled his forehead. "For a lifetime," he huffed as Munch led the way to the interrogation room.

"Mr. Evans, how are your accommodations?" Munch stated dryly drawing his lips into a tight line while cocking up one eyebrow.

"Drop dead!" The seething middle-aged mechanic spat.

"You mean like Kylie did after you throttled her throat?" Elliot interjected in a low tone from the corner of the grey room where he stood arm's crossed, fists clenched, ready to attack should this deadbeat breath in the wrong direction.

Jack Evans eyes narrowed. "I ain't sayin' a word."

"No need. The evidence piled against you speaks volumes," Munch replied statically as he slid a manila folder at the greasy man. "Finger print. Right index. Match." He listed following the order of the photographs and lab reports Evans flipped through. "Hairs and blood found in your apartment. Genetic match to Kylie Evans. Hairs from a German Shepard found on Kylie Evans, surprise surprise, match those of the German Shepard…found in your apartment… registered to you... Jack. Shall I go on?" He asked dryly, his eyes casting a somber stare from above the rim of his dark glasses.

"You could sit there all night spouting out scientific bullshit and I still wouldn't give a fuck old man," Evans hissed through clenched teeth. "Hey Robocop," he smirked smugly tilting his head back in Elliot's direction. "Ain't I suppose to be gettin' a lawyer?" He turned to the two way mirror and grinned. "Hear that piggies! Put down your doughnuts and get me my lawyer!"

Cragen squinted his eyes in frustration and sighed. "You heard him Casey."

Casey nodded and left him and Olivia in front of the mirror to watch the scene unfold. Olivia folded her arms and leaned against the mirror her eyes fixed on Elliot and his rigid features and tense stance. This couldn't be good. She _knew_ that position. It was the one he took when his control was being challenged and he was trying to keep his anger in check. The only problem was she wasn't in there to balance it out, Munch was, and Evans was cutting deeper beneath Elliot's thick skin by the second which wasn't helping matters at all. Yea, this wasn't going to be good.

"So old man you the brain of this operation and Robocop over there the brawn or what?" Evans smirked as he leaned back in his chair.

"Mr. Evans, you've asked for a lawyer. We can't speak with you until they get here," Munch replied with insincerity staining each word. "Too bad though huh Elliot? Our ADA is out there right now listening to every word. She could have made him a deal. I've seen her give deals for much worse."

"Much, much worse," Elliot mirrored from the corner.

Evans eyes grew dark and thoughtful as Munch continued to cast the bait.

"I bet she would have even taken the needle off the table if he had only confessed to Kylie's murder and told us what he did with Leslie Evans' body," Munch stated with a sigh feigning sympathy for their perp.

"You ain't pinnin' her on me! I didn't touch a hair on that crack whore's head! She's upstate somewhere in rehab!" Evans huffed.

"Mr. Evans wait for your lawyer," Munch advised as he walked around the man with his arms folded. "It really is too bad though. I'd hate to be in his shoes. How about you Elliot?"'

"I've had enough of you old man!" Evans stated jumping from his seat toward Munch.

Elliot intercepted the move and shoved the shorter man against the cement wall pinning him uncomfortably in place with his left forearm wedged beneath Evans' adam's apple. He sneered in the man's face, cutting his hard blue eyes in the process. "How does it feel?" He flexed this arm causing the man's response to die in his throat. "How does it feel to be powerless, to be defenseless against someone who is suppose to protect you?" He hissed centimeters from Evans' face.

Outside the two-way Olivia cringed as she watched him tighten his forearm while daring Evans to challenge his authority. Elliot wasn't going to let up and their perp was beginning to change shades of blue. Elliot was loosing control fast to his adrenaline-fed rage and everyone was just standing around watching!

"Captain, call him out," Olivia stated matter-of-factly as Cragen nodded in compliance yet kept his eyes fixed on the scene in the room. She leaned in closer. "He's teetering in the edge."

"Right," he mumbled and tapped on the glass.

Munch exited first leaving Elliot alone to glare into Evans' wide grey eyes before shoving him down into his chair leaving the man rubbing his throat and screaming for his lawyer.

I didn't leave a mark," Elliot mumbled as he joined the three never taking his eyes off Evans.

"Doesn't matter. You're done Detective. Go home," Cragen stated with a stern glare in Elliot's direction and then returned his concentrated stare back into the interrogation room.

Elliot cut his eyes and turned to Olivia who glanced downward in guilt catching his icy glare in the process. He hardened his eyes in disgust before pushing his way through all of them in anger.

She winced as he brushed past her, his eyes cast downward blaming her for everything. She didn't have to see the look. She felt it in histouch.

"This has got to stop. My patience with him is at its breaking point. I'm putting in the paperwork for a leave for him," Cragen growled as he watched Elliot storm past Casey and Evans' appointed representation as they entered the bullpen

Olivia crossed her arms wrapping her hands around her biceps. "I know," she stated earnestly. "Believe me, I really do understand, but that's the last thing he needs right now. Let me just talk to him. I'll take care of this."

Cragen sighed, his eyes softening toward the strong, wounded brunette. "It's not your job to 'take care' of him or his problems Olivia. His life isn't your mess, and it isn't fair for you to always clean up after him."

She glanced over at Munch who just shrugged and turned his attention to Casey and the public defender who was barking at her.

"He has just one more time to veer even the slightest bit out of line and I'm forcing the leave on him. I can't afford to have a loose cannon on _this_ team," he stated gently before turning to their ADA and Evans' fiery attorney. "You're only his partner Olivia," he reminded her as he made his way to the two heated lawyers.

She stared into the corner of the interrogation room where the ghost of Elliot's presence remained. "Yea, I am," she whispered beneath her breath with a sad smile.


	4. Games

**AN: Thank you thank you thank you to all who read and reviewed! I love you all and I felt so inspired and creative, that I decided to write another chapter and dedicate it to the four of you! So here it is chapter 4 of _Company._ **

Chapter 4

Olivia walked the short distance from her car to her apartment rather slowly bundled up tight against the nipping autumn air while chewing tentatively on her bottom lip. "Where the fuck are you Elliot?"

She had no idea where he was and was running out of places to look. He wasn't at his apartment, he wasn't at McMullens or any other bar in a five mile radius of the 1-6, and he wasn't picking up his phone. "Damn man," she sighed to herself. He was already skating on thin ice with Cragen. Not picking up his phone was _not_ the best idea. She had considered calling his kids, but that would just worry them. She didn't want to do that. He just wasn't ready to be found, she concluded to herself. Yea, that had to be it. He didn't want to be found, well, not by her anyway.

But that still didn't make the empty ache go away. The ache that had been haunting her, causing her lonely body to tremble with each intrusive recollection of their interlude since she fled from his arms and their stolen moment. She had wanted that _so_ badly. Every fiber in her being screamed at her that it felt right but her mind had adamantly objected and welcomed the interruption. She had crossed a line, hell, she had bulldozed through a few dozen walls, and, not only fucked over her water-tight partnership, but also piled more problems onto Elliot's weakened back then he really needed. He had every right to disappear. She sure as hell would want to spit nails if she were in his shoes. In fact, she had, years before early in their partnership. She knew the sting of betrayal, the pain that persists after your partner, the person you trust with your life goes behind your back and fucks you over all to well. Only now, she had the chance to taste the bitterness of being on the other end of the wrath. It was a bitch. But even back then, their connection had remained. It faltered yes, but bounced back stronger with more elasticity then ever before. She only hoped she hadn't done irreparable damage this time.

She dug in her pocket for her key as she rounded the corner of her building.

"Elliot," she gasped at the solid shadow in the corner of the concrete stairs. He stood up with ease. "You must be freezing," she whispered as she brushed past him. "How long have you been sitting out here?"

"'Bout an hour," he estimated as he followed her up two flights of stairs to her apartment.

"Jesus Elliot," she sighed as she twisted the key into the last of her three locks on her door and pushed it open. She flipped on the lights tossing her keys and coat on the table. "I have looked everywhere for you."

"I didn't exactly want to be found," he muttered placing his coat next to hers and falling backwards onto her overstuffed, navy blue sofa closing his matching heavy, aching eyes to her.

He felt her sit down beside him, close beside him, and place her warm hands on his icy forearm and squeeze. It felt good, and it wasn't because he was cold or because he was longing to be touched, it was because it was Olivia's touch and he yearned for it.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, moving closer.

He inhaled the unique honeysuckle-jasmine scent that was Olivia and Olivia alone and basked in her warm, peppermint breath. "Exactly what are you sorry for?" he replied as he felt her rub her hands across his forearm pressing the pads of her fingers and tips of her nails into his skin every now and then. He wanted to hear her say it, that she wasn't, just like him.

He felt her get up and he opened his eyes to watch her walk away. She discarded her snug blouse and her belt placing them atop the pile of coats. She removed her boots next, sliding them beneath her table leaving her in a lace adorned pink camisole, her brown cords which had slipped lower on her hips, and white socks. She took two bottles of Miller Lite from her fridge and sat back down beside him.

"For asking Cragen to call you out," she replied and handed him a frosty bottle taking a sip of her own. "I was trying to help. You know if the brass found out you manhandled Evans…" she rationalized trailing off mid sentence. She didn't even want to fathom what would happen.

Elliot just shrugged and took a long gulp of the bitter amber liquid relishing in the feel of it sliding down his throat and across his frayed nerves.

She yearned to touch him again, to feel his firm, cool skin beneath her smooth hands, but sat back instead rolling her eyes at his lack of concern over his career.

"So what did Cragen have to say?"

She closed her eyes letting a smile play at the corners of her lips. There it was. The big, bad, macho Elliot Stabler did care about his job after all. "Suggested a leave of absence, but was persuaded to offer one more chance to walk a perfectly straight line instead," she replied turning to him.

"Perfectly straight?" he asked playfully.

"As a needle I'm afraid," she stated seriously. They had developed a habit of deflecting serious issues with humor, a defense mechanism they refined to a perfected art over their eight year partnership in order to deal with the devastating depravity of humanity they say each day. This however, was not the time to use it. "He'll probably make you talk to Huang too."

He leaned back and closed his eyes. "Damn," he mumbled sleepily. "Thought maybe I could just get away with reporting to my PO… I mean partner."

He heard the distinctive sound a hand makes when it collides with a cheek before he ever felt the bitter sting that accompanies it. He adjusted his head and popped his neck opening his eyes to one extremely pissed off woman.

"This isn't funny Elliot!" She hissed, hurt that he even thought of her in that way. God, anyway but that way! She narrowed her eyes at him. She tried so hard to be supportive, to be his friend even when he was being a complete dick and using her and taking her for granted. But damn it, if he saw her as his keeper, then so be it. This was her opportunity to bite his head off and she was going to take it. "You don't get how serious this is, how pissed Cragen is with you! This has got to stop! It's time to get your shit together! Do you know how close you are to being removed from the force?"

"I don't need this Olivia," he growled and stood up. She intercepted his path to the door and placed her hands on his chest in an effort to stop him.

"I don't think so! You are going to listen to every fucking word I have to say damn it! I'm sick and tired of this shit Elliot! I don't want to play emotional roulette with you anymore! I get that you're upset and angry over your separation and divorce. Really I do, and my heart goes out to you, but you chose to file for divorce Elliot not to work things out with Kathy so stop lashing out at those of us trying to help you. We, no me...I...I am fucking sick and tired of walking on eggshells around you. We all have our problems Elliot. You aren't the only one," she screamed losing control of her wrath and shoving him against the wall as tears of pure anger rolled one by one from her dark, venomous eyes.

"You are this close to loosing everything you still have Elliot. Your job, your pension, your credibility, your partner…" she trailed off, her eyes following her train of thought then darting back upward to meet his gaze once again. "And I refuse, _refuse_ to let you take that away from me you selfish son of a bitch!" she ranted driving her point with another hard shove against the wall. "It's the most important thing I have ever had in my life! Don't you know that?"

"Olivia…" he interjected placing his hands on her hips.

"Fuck you!" she hissed throwing them off her body shaking from a dangerous mixture of tears, rage, and passion. "You are the most important person in my life Elliot. The only stable, reliable thing I've ever had!" she stated in a steady slur of words and tears as she broke down against him. "I'm loosing you."

Elliot stood frozen is disbelief absorbing the truth of Olivia's accusation, the shock of her confession, and the resulting meltdown from her overload of emotions.

She shoved away from him, turning her back toward him while covering her face with her hands. "Just leave," she whispered. "Please just go."

He cut his eyes at her, her, _the_ Olivia Benson, shrinking into herself and pushing the world away when it got hard while her words hung around them threatening suffocation should someone breath in the wrong direction. And she expected him to leave? After that? She wanted a fight, a confrontation. She had for awhile. He'd seen it in her eyes for months. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of unloading her feelings then kicking him out to mull over them. He wanted his two cents as well.

He took two long strides and seized her wrists in his strong grasp. She looked up into his eyes and his anger died on his tongue. He saw something there he'd never seen before, something that scared him and broke his heart at the same time. He saw fear in Olivia Benson. "Liv…"

"Go to hell Stabler," she hissed fighting for control of her wrists, the strength of raw anger suddenly replacing the vulnerability of fear.

He pushed her back against the wall her wrists still locked in his grip above her head. "You first," he countered with a cocky smirk

She pushed the back of her head against the wall in frustration with a desperate sigh as his eyes roamed every inch of her growing darker with each lingering look he stole. "Fucking hell Stabler," she whispered impatiently, desire staining each soft word. She flattened her back against the wall and brought her left leg up wrapping it around his hips pulling him against her in the process.

He pulled back as much as he could surprised by both her lower body strength and flexibility wondering if perhaps she'd been in this position before. "I want to hear you say it Olivia."

She sucked in a harsh breath. So she wanted him. So she had thought about jumping his bones the moment his eyes first locked into hers. So she let the smutty little daydreams consume her thoughts every now and then, daily now that he was separated. So what? She wasn't about to tell him that. She had admitted too much to him already. He wasn't going to hear her beg. "Fuck. You." She dropped her leg and pushed back on him. "Let me go!"

He had her pinned back to the wall in a matter of moments, his lips hovering over hers, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips back to her eyes. "Just say it goddamnit," he huffed frustrated with her pride. "Say it Olivia."

She closed her eyes to his and took a labored breath as she felt his skilled fingers skim across her camisole finding their way beneath the fabric and onto her quivering abdomen. "I need you," she managed in a broken whisper.

"See it wasn't that hard was it?" he challenged letting her go and backing off.

Her mouth dropped in anger. "Son-of-a-bitch!" She hissed turning the tables on him and pushing him against the wall.

He grabbed the sides of her head and pulled her to his lips in a fevered, hungry kiss devouring her lips with his. She opened her mouth granting him access to all it possessed and moaned eagerly. When oxygen became vitally necessary for her, she pulled back slapping him in the process. "You're a fucking bastard!"

He chucked placing his hand on her hips pulling her closer and kissing her gently. "For the record Liv," he whispered against her lips before pulling her up onto his hips and carrying her to her bedroom, "I need you too."

**AN: So what did ya'll think? It's in my usual fashion to combine alcohol, anger, and passion. It's my favorite combination much like Miller Lite is my alcohol of choice. ;) Anyhow, please take a little bitty second to leave me a review and thanks so much for reading! **

**P.S. – PO is referring to Parole Officer, just in case I lost any of you there.**


	5. Company

**AN: Wow I feel so loved! I love you all who read and reviewed and I'm so happy you're enjoying the progression of the story! Hugs and kisses for all the compliments; they fed my meager ego which is currently swollen with pride and in an ever constant creative mood. So I give you all chapter 5 of _Company._ Enjoy my lovelies! **

Chapter 5

Elliot lifted his arm stretching it up and across the bed, bolting up in the empty darkness when it landed in a twist of cools sheets and blanket with a soft, dull thud. "Olivia?"

He waited while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Nothing but the blank inkiness of night greeted his sleepy vision as he groped for clothes, squinting his eyes to read the dim glow of the alarm clock. It glared 4:34am back at him in lime green. "Liv?" He tried again as he slipped into his jeans feeling his way to the door, cussing each time his foot collided with something. He sighed in relief when he finally felt the doorknob beneath his touch yanking it open to a dim apartment. "Liv?"

She looked up from her navy blue tweed armchair tucked away in the corner of her apartment with a mug of steaming tea and a stack of opened letters surrounding her clad in only a white camisole and tiny white cotton panties. She gave him an acknowledging soft smile as he held his hand out to her. She took it and he pulled her up effortlessly, sitting down it her seat then pulling her into his lap. "Freaked out?"

She leaned against his broad chest resting her chin on his shoulder. "Yea," she whispered as he coiled his long arms around her curves.

"Want to run?" he continued stroking her thigh as he did so.

She swallowed her emotions and closed her eyes. God when did he creep into her soul and why wasn't she on guard when he did? She sighed and moved out of his embrace.

"I wasn't really looking for this you know?" She stated with wide eyes standing up and turning to the window, her back to him. "I've been sitting here wishing that Cragen would call and I could disappear into the job. I want so badly to leave, to go and pretend nothing happened." He winced and she took another deep breath swallowing the threatening tears.

"It's a good thing we ended up at your place then," he offered slicing through his pain and her reality with an attempt at humor.

She nodded never turning to meet his gaze. "I'm so tired of being lonely, but I'm terrified of needing someone even more," she sighed against the glass. "I thought I wanted this."

He narrowed his eyes in thought. "What did you want?"

"I don't know." It was a cop out she knew, and it would only provoke his temper, but it was safer then the truth. Lies didn't scare her.

"Bullshit Olivia," he countered in a low growl. "You knew what you were starting. You knew where we would end up. If you didn't want anything to happen, you should have damn well left things the way they fucking were!"

She stiffened. "Leave it where it was, where we barely spoke unless you had wanted to torture me for Kathy leaving or use me to replace the lost emotional and physical support she gave you; leave it where our partnership was crumbling to pieces?" she demanded accusingly. She dropped her head into her hands and shook it. "I just didn't want to be alone anymore. I thought you would understand better then anyone else." She sighed. "Damn! I'm not good at this Elliot and you know it." She raised her head, leaning it against the window before continuing. "I mean fuck, we're screwing with our careers here Elliot and you're still married!"

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose hoping to fight back the oncoming headache from lack of sleep, stress, and pent up tension. "Liv, we're adults, if this isn't what you want then fine. No one knows about it. I can leave and you can go back to hiding inside yourself."

She crossed her arms and turned on him, her eyes burning brown into blue. "You're one to talk! You hide behind your anger every time your emotions threaten to show!" She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath at the same time deciding to start again. Fighting with him was just going to drive the wedge further between them, and that's not what she wanted. "Elliot that's not what I meant and you know it."

He leaned back stretching his arms over the sides of the armchair. "Then what the fuck do you mean? What is it you want from me Olivia? This is driving me insane!"

"Imagine what it's like for me," she whispered in defeat closing her eyes. "God this was so much easier when you weren't available," she sighed.

He let a small smile play on his lips and stifled a yawn. He never could understand why she always insisted on confronting him in the middle of the night. "C'mere," he ordered gently as he leaned forward and grabbed her by the hips pulling her into his lap. "We aren't getting married Liv, and we aren't dating, and I'm not going to let this interfere with our partnership," he whispered resting his chin on her shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around her trim waist. "We're just having sex, that's it." He felt her muscles relax and he sighed in relief. She wanted definitions and labels and everything cut and dry, that's who she was, and while relationships scared the piss out of her, sex didn't. She was comfortable with sex, because for her it was strictly physical, and passion fueled, and completely lacking of intimacy while at the same time holding no promises of commitment. And honestly, at the moment, he just needed someone to connect with, to lie in bed next to him, and to keep his mind off the loneliness that was slowly consuming him. He wasn't ready for anything else. After all, they were partners and he was, technically, still married.

He kissed her bare shoulder. "We're just keeping each other company."

She smiled before the dim room and relaxed against him as he slid his hands across her stomach and then over and between her thighs. She parted them for him as he skimmed his fingers along the inside of her left thigh, crossing over to the right, while massaging each curve he met with a gentle knead of his fingers.

She hissed through clenched teeth as he slid his index and middle finger past the spandex of her skimpy cotton panties letting his thumb tease her while his fingers slipped in an out in a steady, deep, stroking motion. "Damn they're fucking cold!"

He laughed deep and low against her neck as she shivered from a combination of the soft sound of his laughter, his diligent, masterful fingers, and the gentle scrubbing of his five o'clock shadow over the sides and back of her neck.

She felt him smile and she arched her hips forward positioning his fingers where she wanted them and chewed her bottom lip moaning softly in the process. "Mmmm…"

Elliot worked his fingers methodically in and out and curled and uncurled them against her while sucking gently on the back of her neck. "You taste like… like brown sugar and… and honey."

Olivia reached down, threading her fingers through his as she pulled them out of her, and flipped her body to face him her knees tight between the sides of the chair and his hard outer thighs hidden beneath the cover of dark denim.

He brought their laced fingers to his lips sucking the taste of Olivia slowly from each one with a seductive grin and clouded eyes.

She pulled her fingers from the heat of his mouth and placed her palms on each side of his face, framing his head in her hands. "We can do this?" She stated in an interrogative tone searching his face for doubt inadvertently memorizing the contours of his face and its perfectly defined, purely masculine features instead. And those eyes! She felt herself falling fast for the quiet reserves of peace his striking blue eyes promised. She adored every perfected imperfection about this man, and in that second she spent memorizing his smoldering bedroom face for answers, she knew this had the potential for fireworks, for a lightening storm, and she felt the fear creeping back into her stomach.

He wrapped his hands around the back of her head pulling it forward until her forehead met his. "Company Liv," he reminded her with a promise.

She closed her eyes to him, calmed by the steady, rhythmic motion of his deep breaths. "Company," she repeated to herself.

**A/N: Just an end note, this isn't an affair fic so it won't be rough and dirty and kinky (Well maybe a bit. I can't help myself), so don't get to use to constant sex scenes and making out (there has to be more to a story), this chapter was mostly for the "behind closed doors requests" I got in a few reviews as well as a plot progresser. But don't start throwing flames yet, I will have Olivia jumping Elliot's bones every once in awhile ;) Just stay tuned and keep on reviewing! Now remember take a moment to leave a review and keep my ego healthy and creative!**


	6. A Vacation

**AN: I love all my little reviewing darling readers! All of you brighten my days and keep me checking my email twenty times a day! I love it! So to my devotees I humbly give you chapter 6 of _Company._ Enjoy!**

**It has also occurred to me that I haven't disclaimed for _Company _yet., and seeing that I'm a poor college student who can't afford a lawsuit, I disclaim. Dick Wolf owns 'um. I only borrow 'um to play out my twisted ideas.**

Chapter 6

The pain was ripping through her body; deep, agonizing throbs of incredible pain were holding her tight muscles hostage and she screamed with a loud, resonating yelp for mercy.

"_I got you Liv."_

Olivia bolted up in the twisted confines of her sheets and comforter; no doubt disheveled from the fitful thrashing the dream had caused. "Elliot?"

She studied the open room lit by the silvery yellow glow of dawn and yawned. He was gone. His clothes, which had been tossed about the room in a furry of lust, were missing along with his body heat and deep, soothing breathing. She suddenly felt tiny in her comfortably immaculate bedroom. Elliot was gone.

She threw the conjoined blanket and sheet away from her body in disgust and thudded into her bathroom to start her morning until the scent of caramel amaretto coffee flooded her bedroom tweaking at her curiosity while causing her stomach to rumble in delight. She bit her bottom lip in guilt as she followed the delicious scent to its source.

She wrinkled her nose at the stupid grin she knew to be encompassing her features due to the bright yellow sticky note with only a dopey smiley face sticking its tongue out at her and Elliot's tight signature scribbled beneath it stuck to the busy coffee machine. She opened the mysterious paper bag that was positioned directly beside the machine and her keys and fought another grin as she inhaled the aroma of the contents. Elliot had managed to scavenge up her favorite breakfast; amaretto coffee with caramel and a veggie breakfast burrito. "Damn man!"

Olivia tried as hard as she could for the rest of the morning to shake the school girl grin and the butterflies that were welling inside her despite all her best efforts to play what she was feeling as deep down as she possibly could. Her head was all game, her heart just wouldn't cooperate. She couldn't go to the station like this. Not like this! Munch would have everything figured out in a heartbeat, Fin would bust her balls about it every chance he got, and Elliot would strut around with a cocky smirk plastered on his smug face like he was the Prince of Wales! No! There would be no working with any of them after that. Just because she let Elliot get inside her pants didn't mean she was willing to give up her spot as one of the boys. He only had a visitor's pass after all. It wasn't like he was buying shares. The cost was much too high, for both of them.

"Morning Olivia," Munch smirked and handed her a cup of coffee as she entered the bullpen with a confident don't-fuck-with-me-today strut. She turned her nose up at it while glancing through the corner of her eye at Elliot in the process. He was typing feverishly at his keyboard while staring blankly at the blue monitor. "I don't think so John, I would like to get some sleep tonight."

"I made it," Fin piped up from a mound of paperwork. "S'good."

Olivia flashed a wide grin at the partners. "In that case, thanks John," she stated snatching the coffee.

Munch leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. "Not getting much sleep Olivia?"

She narrowed her eyes at him catching Elliot crouch closer to his computer screen in the process. "Insomnia," she offered falling into her chair.

Fin looked up from his work with intrigue shining in his dark eyes.

"Uh huh," Munch replied unmoved.

Olivia shrugged. "Believe what you want John. I know better then to try and convince you other wise."

Fin hunched forward in attempt to swallow a deep chuckle. "'Ata girl."

Olivia opened a file while kicking Elliot hard in the shin beneath their conjoined desks.

His head shot up sizing her up with a quizzical gaze as she grabbed a pen. He leaned back amused while placing his hands behind his head as Munch sat down and Fin shoved some files in his direction.

"I thought you were my boy," Munch complained.

"But I ain't your bitch," Fin shot back returning to his work.

Elliot chuckled at the remark as Munch shot him an annoyed glare. Olivia didn't move. Elliot cocked his head to the side smirking at her while enjoying the feeling of power that was once again coursing through his veins. "C'mon Liv, you know that was funny."

"I'm busy Elliot," she moaned with a whine.

He swallowed hard as he felt his blood flow surge south. Man if this was how it was going to be working with Olivia from now on, he was in definite trouble! He watched her peek at him above the rim of a file, divert her gaze back to the file, and chew her bottom lip. His lips stretched into a knowing, devilish grin and he grabbed a handful of rubber bands.

"I'll bet you lunch they slept together," Munch stated in a hushed whisper and he leaned forward while keeping the two in his peripheral vision.

"Huh? How you figure?" Fin replied as he watched Elliot pop a rubber band in Olivia's direction. She reached up and swatted the thing out of her hair never looking up from her file. "They always act like that."

Munch replied with an are-you-kidding-me smirk. "Come on! For the past year and a half, Elliot has been a festering time bomb of rage, now all the sudden he's back to being a cocky know it all? I don't buy it. And Olivia hasn't once written in that file and she's been looking at that same page now for twenty minutes!"

"And from all this you get that they're knockin' boots?" Fin questioned skeptically.

Munch's mouth flattened into an annoyed frown. "He's trying his damndest to get her attention while she's desperately pretending not to notice. Reeks of sex to me."

"You're full of shit. I'll take that bet. I've been craving lobster for awhile now."

Munch cut his eyes at him quizzically as a rubber band flew between them. Apparently, Elliot had given up on trying to get Olivia's attention.

"Stabler, my office," Cragen interrupted rather suddenly causing them all to jump and turn their gaze to Elliot.

His eyebrows popped up and his bottom lip dropped in thought as he pushed back from his desk. "What?" He shrugged as he stood, striding to the Captain's office.

"Yea Cap?" Elliot asked poking his head inside the door.

"Sit Elliot, and close the door," Cragen ordered as he stood, moving to the front of his desk.

"Look Captain, I was just pla…."

"It's not about that Elliot," Cragen stated gently. "I want you to take a few days off, a week at least, spend some time with your kids, rest, recuperate."

Elliot nodded slowly. "I don't need any ti…"

"Take it Elliot or I'm forcing it," Cragen replied sharply in a low tone. "You don't have a choice in this."

Elliot stood, towering a good four inches over the older man and scowled. "I'm fine."

"No you're not. I wish you were, but you need to handle this, whatever this is that's eating at you, and stop avoiding it." Cragen moved back behind his desk and sat down, leaning back in exhaustion. "But I don't think you can do that on your own."

"I'm not seeing Huang," Elliot hissed, cutting his eyes at the older man.

"You won't have to. He's too busy with the Shelton murders. I've asked Dr. Hendrix to see you." Cragen folded his arms across his desk matching Elliot's dark, dangerous stare. "It's an order Detective. That is, if you are planning on staying on my squad." Cragen dropped his gaze and opened a folder. "We're done here Detective."

Elliot growled and shoved the chair against the wall before yanking the door open and storming out of the office and into the bullpen where he hurriedly grabbed his jacket and briefcase while ignoring the inquisitive stares from his colleagues.

"Elliot?" Olivia questioned as he fumed past her out of the open room.

"Damn," she mumbled to herself standing.

"Don't even think about it Olivia," Cragen barked as he emerged from his office. "You're riding the desk for the week. Make yourself comfortable."

Olivia slumped back down in her chair and sighed while she chewed her bottom lip and fingered her cellphone in her hip pocket. _Damn._

Munch lifted his eyebrows at Fin and smirked. "I'm in the mood for Italian."

**A/N: On an end note my lovelies, take a little moment to give me a nice, hearty review and I will be your slaves forever and produce E/O fics that will make your heads spin (or thighs shake whichever you prefer ;) for years to come! Thanks for tuning in!**


	7. Easy

**AN: I adore reviews! Thank all of ya'll! This is for each of you! I give you chapter 7 of _Company._ Enjoy!**

**I disclaim. Dick Wolf owns 'um. I only borrow 'um to play out my twisted ideas.**

Chapter 7

Olivia twisted the key releasing the final lock allowing her inside her apartment and sighed grateful to finally be away from the station. If the good thing about riding a desk was a normal 8 – 6 work day, the bad definitely had to be filing. Her feet ached and she swore she had taken on the scent of must, dust, and age from the long hours in the file room, not to mention is was boring as fuck.

She flipped on the light and played her voice messages while she changed into an old grey NYPD t-shirt with fading back letters and a pair of soft pink drawstring lounge pants. There were various messages from telemarketers, a message from a great-aunt she'd been meaning to visit for a few months now, and one from Fin informing her that she owed him forty-five bucks while mumbling something about discretion in the workplace that perplexed her, but there wasn't a single message or missed call on either her home phone or cell phone from Elliot.

She flopped down on her sofa and sighed trying her best to recall when she'd ever been so affected by something so cliché as a guy not calling. College, she believed; and even then, it was a long term relationship full of hopes and promises, the same ones she laughs at today, but adored as a kid, and they weren't, to be bluntly honest, just fuck buddies.

She shook her head. But did she really believe that; that she and Elliot were simply sleeping together like he promised? Their eight year partnership, deeply rooted connection, and commitment to the job told her they definitely were anything but. A line was crossed though, and confessions were made, and no matter what they did now or what they told themselves to make this okay for them to do, there was no going back. She knew that, it was common sense; he had to know that too.

A gentle rasp on her door jarred her from inside her thoughts. Then again, she rose to open the door, lust and loneliness were known to cloud more then a few minds of even the most sensible people sometimes.

"Why didn't you just use your key?" she asked as she turned her back to him, making her way back to her sofa. He had used the key she gave him last night, or rather early morning to be exact, to get into the building, but not to open her door.

"I wasn't sure," he replied slowly taking in her apartment before entering as slow as he spoke.

"That the key worked?"

"Among other things," he replied and sat across from her.

The comment stung, but her features showed no sign of it. Goddamn emotional roulette! He didn't need her; he needed Paxil! "So let me get this straight. You don't call all day long, after that Oscar winning performance this morning might I add, to let me know, me, your partner, the one you're fucking, that you aren't somewhere with your gun down your throat, and then you let yourself into my building but not my apartment, and then feed me some bullshit line about not being sure about things. I told you yesterday, I'm not doing this with you. Not anymore."

"You didn't call either Olivia," he reminded her, cutting down to the source of her anger.

She chewed the inside corner of her mouth. "Well neither did you."

Elliot dropped his head in his hands with a tired sigh. "Can't we just skip to the sex?"

She dropped her head against her legs and laughed with her whole body. He smiled at the foreign sound, making a mental note to make her do it for often because she was absolutely breathtaking with a smile on her face.

She lifted her head and brushed her bangs back to the side, the smile still gracing her well defined features. "Depends on what I get in return."

"Me between your thighs," he offered as he leaned forward rubbing his thumb over her knee.

She bit her lip as her smile widened. "Tempting," she smiled as she grabbed a fistful of his red t-shirt and pulled him on top of her. "What else?"

He hooked his index finger in the waistband of her pants following a rough path from hip bone to hip bone. "I'll call you. I'll call you, use my key, and keep you on my to-do list."

She giggled beneath him causing him to press the pads of his thick fingers into her warn stomach. "Just who else is on your to-do list Stabler?"

"Well you definitely top it," he smirked as he edged the shirt up her abdomen and ribcage. "I also promised to pick up Dickie and Lizzie from school everyday this week and take them to lunch and then to the park for soccer. Kathleen and Maureen want me to accompany them on a shopping spree that I will undoubtedly be financing sometime this week too. They told me I needed new furniture."

"Mmm. Smart girls. So you saw them today?"

"We all had lunch and I took Kathleen and the twins to play soccer afterwards, and then we had a late dinner," he replied dropping his head to place slow kisses along her jaw line.

She cradled his head in her hands and opened her legs allowing him to move between them. "Sounds better then my day."

"Oh yea? Munch drive you crazy with his theory about Cheney and gun control laws?"

She giggled as she felt him press himself against her thigh. "I haven't heard that one yet. I spent my day pinned beneath a pile of heavy, thick files."

She felt him nip her neck with that comment and smiled. "Consider yourself lucky," he mumbled against her neck.

"No hickies Stabler! I don't know what it is with you and those tacky little things but they are a bitch to hide," she exclaimed pushing him from her neck.

He propped his head on his elbow buried between her and the couch and smiled at their tangled limbs and melded bodies. "But they're so much fun."

She lifted her eyebrow and pushed herself upright in his embrace. "Yea we'll let me bite your neck and watch you try explaining it to Munch."

"I wouldn't complain," he replied defiantly leaning toward her. "Munch would probably buy me lunch."

She delivered a quick peck on the lips before standing and removing her shirt. "It's a good thing you're cute Stabler, or I woulda gave up on your ass years ago."

He pulled her back between his legs with a confident grin frozen wide across his face. "What can I say, I'm easy."

"Of all the things you are, easy is definitely not one of them," she hissed as she removed his shirt and unbuttoned the clasp of his jeans.

He sighed in relief and pulled her forward. "I'm working on it Liv."

**A/N: Fluffy I know, but that is just how this fic is turning out; fluff, angst, fluff, angst… On an end note my lovelies, thank each and every one of ya'll for reading and please take a little moment to leave me an intsy bintsy review as I leave you with a little spoiler for the next chapter: Elliot hides something from Olivia and Maureen pays her Daddy a visit….**


	8. Visiting

**AN: Thank you guys so, so, so much for all the wonderful reviews! They seriously made my week! Please keep 'um coming! Also, this is for Lindsay who ever so nicely threatened, er, I mean _asked_ me to finish the chapter. Here ya go!**

**I disclaim. Dick Wolf owns 'um. I only borrow 'um to play out my twisted ideas.**

Chapter 8

Olivia grabbed her third Miller Lite of the night and polished off the remainder, scowling at its warm taste and then giggling after swallowing it.

Elliot grinned. "Got warm?"

"Yea," she laughed as she stretched over his bare chest. "Gimme yours."

"Not on your sweet little ass woman!" he shot back and downed the rest of his beer, number six for him. "Damn where is that pizza?"

She giggled and plopped down on her back, dropping her head in his lap. He groaned causing her giggles to increase in volume and velocity. "Afraid you'll be too drunk to eat it Stabler?"

He smirked at her question. He wasn't drunk, far from it really, and he definitely wasn't too drunk to eat; be it pizza _or _Olivia Benson. "Haha Liv. I need more beer. You want another?"

She sat up despite her fuzzy head and criss-crossed her legs over his new, wide, deep green, velvety smooth sofa. "Mmm 'course."

He flipped one in her direction and fell heavily beside her. They were one beer away from polishing off a twelve pack and it made him wonder just what they were they trying to wash away. For her, he knew it was a new case; a case that so big, so demanding, and so horrific, that Cragen called him today, four days into his week long vacation, to inform him he was to come in tomorrow morning. She was washing away the crime scenes and the pictures of five broken little girls with the smooth alcohol. What he was washing away was something stirring deep inside of him that he couldn't quite identify yet, but managed toscare him none the less, because as it he grew, his control shrank.

He shrugged at his own thoughts and took a healthy swig of his, watching her completely down hers. He was impressed; he was very impressed. He was so impressed with her stunt that various parts of his body were aching to show her just how impressed with her he really was.

"Ha Stabler! I get the last one!" she squealed jumping up from the sofa. He groaned. She was wearing nothing but his steel grey dress shirt, the one she always loved seeing him in that looked equally, if not better all together, on her, and he caught an eye full of her round, bare ass in the quick movement.

"Jesus Liv!"

She winked and popped the cap off her bottle. "On purpose," she mumbled from inside the bottle.

He rolled his eyes. "You're lucky this sofa is new and I can't afford to buy a new one."

She grinned and played with the rim of the bottle with her teeth and lips.

"C'mere woman!" He growled seizing her by her hips and pulling her into his lap. "You have any idea what you do to me?" He asked with a grin.

Her eyes sparkled with an unnamed emotion that he couldn't place but swore it almost looked like contentment; it almost looked as if Olivia Benson, who was sitting in his lap, in his apartment, on his brand new sofa, in his best dress shirt, was content to be here with him, wrapped tightin his arms.

He nuzzled her neck with his nose and lips. No, she had no idea what she was in fact doing to him.

The intercom buzzedchoosing that moment to break and ruin, and Olivia jumped from his lap squealing in her tipsy, Miller Lite soaked state. "Pizza!"

Elliot shook his head at her and pressed the intercom button. "Yea?"

"Hey Daddy, let me up! It's freezing out here!"

Elliot's eyes grew wide and Olivia froze in shock. "Motherfu…"

He silenced her with a wave of his hand as his finger dropped from the tiny box. "Shit! Maureen."

Reality caught up with Olivia, sobering her from her beer soaked frame of mind, and she quickly raced around his apartment gathering the tell tell signs of her existence in it.

"Daddy," the intercom called once more. "Can you hear me?"

Elliot shook his head jarring his vision back to the small box. "Sorry Maur. Come on up."

Olivia tossed her bags and clothes and shoes into Elliot's bedroom closet as he hastily followed behind her, grabbing a t-shirt and pulling it down over his head and chest. He placed his hands on the waist band of his jeans and groaned. "Fuck."

Olivia fell hard on his bed, staring up at him anxiously. "What now?"

"Stay here," he directed and bent forward, meeting her lips for a quick kiss. She nodded with a yawn and pulled his comforter over her body, curling up beside his pillow as he closed the door.

Elliot took one last look at his bedroom door and opened his front door to his eldest daughter. "Hey hunny," he smiled pulling her into a tight hug.

"Hey Daddy," she smiled and squeezed her father's waist. "I got out of class early tonight and I was wondering if we could catch a movie or something?"

His heart ached. "Maur I wish you woulda called, I ordered pizza."

Her eyes lit up. "Great I'm starving!" She smiled enthusiastically and slid past him into his living room. We can just… jeez Daddy!"

"Gawd, he mumbled as he followed the gasp to its source. She stood with her hands on her hips eyeing his brand new living room in shock.

"You drink all those yourself?" she asked referring to the wastebasket next to his sofa that was filled to the rim with empty Miller Lite bottles.

He placed his hands on his hips matching her stance. "Yea," he shrugged. It sounded stupid he knew, but he couldn't come up with anything better at the moment.

Maureen wrapped her arms around his waist once again and placed her head against his chest. "Daddy I worry about you sometimes."

He ran his hand down the length of his daughter's hair. "I know hunny, but you don't have to. Let me worry. It's in my job description not yours."

"Yea well we both know that's not gonna happen. Daddy you need to get out more. It's not healthy to stay locked up in your apartment night after night."

"What are you a psych major now?" He teased trying to change the subject. It didn't work.

Maureen placed her hands on her hips once more. "Daddy," she groaned.

"I'm fine hunny. I promise," he replied with sincerity.

She shook her head unmoved by his reply and surveyed the rest of the room. "Daddy you need to go out more and meet new people…" she preached, but stopped short as she spotted a lacy scrap of fabric sticking out from beneath the sofa. She bent down and pulled a lacy, pink bra with black trim from its hiding place. "…unless you already have, Daddy who's is this?"

Elliot's eye grew wide. "I…I don't know," he stammered and mentally cursed him self for sounding like a teenager who just got caught making out by his parents.

Maureen crossed her arms. "You never believed me when I told you things like that."

Elliot sighed in exhaustion. "Maureen I'm an adult."

"So am I Daddy. Tell me the truth. Who's is this?" she shot back.

"Maureen," he pleaded. "Drop it."

"Tell me Daddy. Who's is it? Is she here? Is she in your bedroom? Is that why the door's closed?"

Maureen's blue eyes burned as she fired question after question, barely taking a breath in between. Elliot chuckled. "You'd make one helluva detective Maureen."

"Daddy! Answer my questions!" She ordered and peeked past him to his closed bedroom door, gasping at what she saw.

Elliot panicked but didn't dare to turn around or show it. "What?"

Maureen bit the bottom of her lip suddenly understanding the situation in front of her as she stared at a black leather briefcase with the initials OB engraved on the silver plated clasp. "Olivia," she mumbled as she tore her gaze from the briefcase and back to her father's bewildered, fearful glare. "This bra, I know who's it is."

Elliot closed his eyes and grabbed the back of his neck anxiously, squeezing the skin he found there. "Oh yea?"

"It's Kathleen's."

His eyes shot open. "What?"

"Yea I remember Olivia bought it for her when we went shopping a few months ago because Kath really liked it, but didn't have the money to buy it," Maureen covered quickly, as she was skilled at it and had twenty two years of it beneath her belt. Besides, it wasn't all a lie. She and her sister were indeed with Olivia shopping for intimate wear a couple of months ago, but she had no idea if that bra was one of Olivia's many, many purchases that day. "She must have left it when she stayed over last weekend."

Elliot furrowed his brows in confusion. "Okay, I'll let her know."

Maureen leaned forward and kissed her dad's cheek, placing the bra on his coffee table. "Okay."

"You leaving?" he asked as he pulled her into a hug.

"Yea, I should probably get a head start on my research. After all, that's why the professor let us out so early anyway," she smiled and headed toward the door.

He nodded and gave her once last hug. "Bye hunny."

"Bye. I'll call you later Daddy. Have a good night," she smiled and opened the door to a pizza delivery guy. She laughed as Elliot paid, took the pizza, and closed the door behind them.

He sighed dropping the pizza on his coffee table andreplacing it with the bra.

"Liv," he called gently as he opened his bedroom door. "Pizza's here."

"Mmm," she mumbled half asleep.

He sat down beside her, sliding his hand up and across her hip, so that he was cupping her ass. "Maureen knows," he added softer then before.

She sat up. "You told her?" She asked accusingly.

He smiled. "She found this, and while she was demanding to know who it belonged to, saw your briefcase next to the door," he stated offering her bra up between them as evidence.

"Damn!" Olivia muttered and chewed the corner of her lip. "I thought I got everything."

"I think she's okay with it though," he smiled further.

Olivia nodded afraid to reply, afraid of how he'd take her building questions, afraid of giving a voice to the realization that someone knew what they were doing; and how that made what they were doing real, and dangerous, and wrong, and gave it the potential to blow up in their faces.

He broke her thoughts with a soft kiss. "I'm gonna take a shower."

She nodded and collapsed back into the folds of the sheets with a sigh. She turned and listened to the sounds of the shower starting behind the closed door, before being jolted upward by the shrilling call of a cellphone. She moved toward the source of the blaring noise and soft, glowing light, and peered down at the illuminated screen of Elliot's cellphone. Rebecca Hendrix's name meet her gaze and she scowled. "Sonovabitch!"

**A/N : Now, leave lots and lots and lots of reviews for me to throw over my head and roll around in!**


	9. Insecurities

**AN: Thank you all so very, very much, and thanks even more from the bottom of my heart for all the wonderful pushes and words of encouragement from a few of my most dedicated readers. Their words really meant the world to me, and helped me out a lot in a time that I'm feeling pretty down. I haven't really been feeling to creative or motivated with all that I'm dealing with right now, and those few messages seriously made me feel tons better, for awhile anyway. I know many of you are aggravated with few and far between updates, but I have my reasons, and at this point I'm not making any promises concerning updates, but I will promise to try my best and complete the story, because I still have so many more ideas I want to play out, and all of you are such great, dedicated readers! This chapter is dedicated to all my readers, and to mariskahargitays#1fan I want to say thanks for the suggestion, though I think I'm gonna stretch it out a bit because there's some spice and angst and details I want to add to it, and because this is Elliot and Olivia who never, ever say what they really feel and are the king and queen of drawing situations, avoiding issues, and dancing around their feelings. Damn how I love it! They're truly a fanfiction writer's dream pair! So without any further delays (except the disclaimer :), I give you chapter 9 of _Company._**

**I disclaim. Dick Wolf owns 'um. I only borrow 'um to play out my twisted ideas.**

Chapter 9

Olivia sat on Elliot's bed in the dim glow of the thin sliver of light that escaped beneath the bathroom door chewing on the corner of her bottom lip. Why in the hell was Rebecca Hendrix calling Elliot's cellphone? What in the hell was going on?

"Motherfucker." she mumbled to herself. She felt like crying, running, and pinning Elliot facedown to floor with her knee pressed against the back of his neck demanding answers while he pleaded for mercy all at the same time. She slid off his bed slowly and padded across the bare floor to Elliot's closet, ridding herself of his shirt and digging through her clothes for one of her own.

She found a tank top and slid it over her bare chest and torso and pulled a pair of lounge pants from her bag and slipped into those, tossing the remainder of her clothing the closet held into her bag. "Fucking man," she mumbled as she shoved a wad of clothing into the bag followed by a handful of shoes. She had no idea what exactly to feel or do, but packing while mumbling illicit swears and incoherent threats seemed to fit so she went with it.

Olivia pushed all her belongings deeper in the bag with incredible force and ripped the zipper across the teeth of the bag, throwing it against the back of the closet with a thundering force as tears stung the back of her eyes. She folded into herself, balling her fists into her eyes to appease the threatening tears. "Damn!" It was good; they felt so good together despite all the odds against them and reasons why they told themselves it was okay, she was happy with this or whatever _this _was. "Goddamn Rebecca," she mumbled against her forearms and knees. For the first time in over a year, they were actually okay together and Elliot was getting so much better…

"Oh God!" she whispered in disbelief. That was it! That had to be it! Elliot was seeing Rebecca for therapy! _God let that be it!_ "Some fucking detective I am," she mumbled through tears, thoroughly embarrassed with herself.

She took a deep breath as new emotions washed over her, replacing the seething anger and jealousy that were fighting for control. She felt betrayed. Not only was Elliot seeing a therapist and hiding it from her, but he was seeing _Rebecca_ and keeping it from her. The fact that he was seeing a therapist and failed to tell her hurt, the fact that it was Rebecca he was seeing stung on a much deeper level. She absolutely could not stand the woman! Olivia had always found Rebecca and her 'holier then thou' attitude much too condescending for her taste, and developed an unfaltering distaste for the woman upon meeting her. Elliot knew this; as her partner, he _knew_ this! Yet, with every one of their cases that she felt 'compelled' to intervene in, not only did he enthusiastically allow it, but also held Rebecca's opinions and thoughts above all others and treated Rebecca just like everyone else who had ever met her had; like a fucking saint. She could do no wrong and it pissed Olivia off! Granted, it pissed her off probably more then it really should have, but _she_ was Elliot's partner and that was _their_ partnership Rebecca was withering into. And now she had managed to do it again! Damn, she hated that woman!

Olivia kicked her bag and sniffled, wiping the loose tears from her face. Well, whatever was going down between Elliot and the saintly doctor she wasn't about to let him see her doubled over, in his closet, crying her eyes out, completely insecure in a mixed state of jealousy and vulnerability. "Fuck no! I'm stronger then that," she reminded herself with another reassuring sniffle as she stood. She was met with a sharp pain in her gut and she wrapped her arms around it as bile burned at the base of her throat. Then why the hell did it hurt so badly? She bit bottom lip and steadied her breathing. Because she cared about him too much, that's why. No, wait. She cared too much three years ago; she was in love, and fuck did it ever hurt!

She took another deep, calming breath and closed her eyes. She opened them with a renewed sense of control over her body and emotions, at least for the moment anyhow, and collapsed onto his bed. Without the onslaught on emotions battering her thoughts, she was reminded of her exhaustion and the workday that was ahead of her in only a handful of hours.

She fell back against the soft, deep pillows and curled into herself with a sigh. She was tired and she had too much to drink and she'd deal with the phone call tomorrow. She closed her eyes and nodded to herself as she heard the sound of falling water halt somewhere in the distance. Yea, she'd handle that in the morning.

Elliot opened his bathroom door with a towel slung low on his hips and paused at the doorframe, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. He gazed at his bed first, drinking in Olivia's presence in it and smiled. He loved it! He loved that after two nights in her apartment together, she opted to bring a few overnight bags and camp out at his apartment, in his bed despite his children's ever demanding attention, phone calls, and surprise visits. He shook his head with as a low chuckle escaped his throat at the utter simplicity and domesticity of it all despite this all being a secret, morally wrong, and potentially costly affair. God help him he loved every second of it!

He slipped quietly into a pair of sweatpants and left the bedroom, grapping a slice of cold bacon, mushroom, and black olive pizza from the untouched pie on the way to the kitchen. He hastily and softly cleaned up the remainder of their evening and grabbed another slice of pizza before sticking it in his fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, and heading to bed, to his exhausted partner.

He paused in the door frame of his bedroom, munching on the slice of pizza and admiring Olivia's sleeping form. She had one incredible, not to mention erotically agile body that brought him to his knees pleading for more, for release, for…something; and she choose to share herself with him. That was the part that sometimes kept him up at night, watching her in fear. Of what he didn't know, but the fear was there. Maybe it was of his own insecurities as a scorned lover, as a partner, as a married man about to be divorced, as a middle-aged father of four; God he didn't know. He just knew that there were so many other incredibly enticing opportunities for a woman like her out there and she choose to lie in his bed with him each night, to settle for nothing but a sexual relationship with him because that's all a soon to be divorced, middle-aged, father of four like him could offer her when there was the possibility of love waiting somewhere out there for her. He scowled as a bitter taste settled in his mouth and tossed the remainder of the pizza in a wastebasket.

He moved to the opposite side of her sleeping form and gently maneuvered his body between the sheets, spooning into her. She coiled further into herself, almost as if she was recoiling from his presence and he scowled at the uncharacteristic action. Any other time, she move back against him in her sleep. Was the room to cool? He timidly slid his hand up her back and over her torso, coming to rest against her arm that was folded across her stomach at her navel. He threaded his fingers through hers and felt her lean back against him, as he acknowledged her change of clothes. Yea, she must have been cold, he concluded as he drifted off to sleep with her in his welcoming, thankful embrace; yea that was it.

**Thanks for reading and for your patience and please don't forget to leave me a review!**


	10. Misunderstandings

**AN: This is for Onetreefan.; thank you! And to the rest of my reader's, I extend my deepest apologies for the long delay. I haven't forgotten about this story, I just got a little side-tracked :) I'll update as often as I can, but I'm still hesitant to make any promises as of yet. Anyhow, I present to y'all chapter 10 of _Company. _Enjoy!**

**I disclaim. Dick Wolf owns 'um. I only borrow 'um to play out my twisted ideas.**

Chapter 10

Olivia nestled her piping cup of coffee between her hands and inhaled deeply, allowing the strong aroma of Dark Colombian Roast, Elliot's roast of choice, with two sugar's and a cream, her signature to any coffee she consumed, to fill her senses and drive out the imposing fog of a restless night. She licked her lips and took a slow sip, slumping back into one of the five deep, high-backed chairs in front of Elliot's breakfast bar. She sighed and brushed her long bangs to the side. He was still asleep, and she woke up an hour before the alarm, wrapped possessively between his strong arms and rock hard, bare chest and despite everything, all she wanted to do was melt into him and that made her angry as hell that he could do that to her. She ran a hand over her hair and dropped her fingers to the counter, drumming them anxiously.

She had been thinking over the whole phone call ordeal for the better part of the morning and arrived at the conclusion that while it did piss her off, it only served as a catalyst to the case of worms that were about to be opened; Rebecca or no Rebecca. And, at the heart of everything she'd been stewing over was this, their relationship was too deeply entrenched and complicated and broken for simply a 'friends with benefits' type deal and deep down, from the start, she feared that; that at any given moment, something or someone would come along and break the rose colored glasses they'd been hiding behind. And despite all of her instincts and reserves, she still fell for him- hard.

She took a longer gulp of the warm liquid and chewed at her bottom lip. All that had initially occurred to her when Elliot suggested they take the shell of their friendship, and the facts that they were both utterly miserable and achingly alone, and combine it with mind-numbing sex, and agree to keep each other company. She knew it was a mistake; that he was broken, they were broken, and sex wasn't going to fix anything, but she wasn't strong enough to object to something she'd been wanting everyday for so long, wrapped up neatly and laid at her feet. She'd fought the longing in her gut for so long and then there it was mirrored in Elliot's desperate blue eyes and she couldn't fight it anymore. The problem was though, she still wanted him. She loved him; only he was merely interested in the warmth her naked body had to offer him at night.

She wanted more from him though; much more in fact. For the first time, in a very long time, she wanted the whole nine yards from a man, while, at the very same time, the man she wanted was loosing his. That was what hurt and she thought, at the beginning, that she could handle it, that 'just keeping each other company' would be enough to satisfy the need, but it didn't, and now she ached ten times worse! "Damn, I _am_ in love him," she mumbled into her creamy coffee. "Fuck."

She needed a second opinion. A diagnosing of this immensity demanded it. She needed a friend, a girl-friend; and Casey Novak fit that bill. She pulled her phone from its resting place snug in her side pocket against the swell of her left hip and flipped it open.

"Casey Novak," she was greeted with in Casey's exhausted, throaty voice.

"Hey Casey."

"I hope you're not calling for a warrant at this hour! I'm running out of judges to wake up for them!" Casey replied dramatically. Olivia's lips tightened. She was too tired and it was a bit too dramatic.

"I was actually calling to see if you've made dinner plans. I'm in desperate need of a night without testosterone and brooding with a lot of hard liquor," Olivia replied, hoping that she was feigning enough pleasantry and mystery to reel Casey in.

"Sounds great actually, but I'm going to have to skip the hard liquor. I have opening statements in the Turner case early tomorrow."

Olivia cringed. That was a bloody, terrible case she worked with Fin over three months ago. She was still trying to repress those images. "I understand, but you'll still come right?"

"Yea, time and place?"

"8:15 on the corner of 9th and Park at a place called Jack's Pride," Olivia replied as she heard the alarm sounding behind the closed bedroom door.

"Okay. I'll meet you there," Casey agreed and ended the conversation.

Olivia was thankful she wasn't much on phone formalities and pocketed her cell phone as she heard the bedroom door open behind her.

"You headin' in?"

She didn't turn or respond; she only sipped her rapidly cooling coffee.

"Liv?" He questioned as she felt his hand press flat against the small of her back. "Are you leaving?"

She licked her lips, hoping that her words came out calm and her tone smooth and even. "I got called in."

She felt him nuzzle the side of her neck and place a warm kiss where his lips met her skin. "Oh. Why didn't you wake me?"

Olivia sighed closing her eyes to emotions the gestures stirred deep within her. "You looked so… content," she whispered with a feathery sigh.

She felt him smile against her neck and then step away and into the kitchen with his back to her, and she took the moment to deepen her breathing and calm the onslaught of butterflies he managed to produce with a simple kiss. She was nervous and insecure and in love, and all while desperately trying to bury the vulnerability that that combination of emotions produced in her. She had it under control; she just didn't expect such … such a gesture of domesticity from him.

A shrill ring sounded from the bedroom causing her to flinch and jarring her from her thoughts.

"I guess there's _my_ call," he stated with a chuckle as he was pouring milk and sweetener into his coffee mug filled only one third full of actual coffee. "Wouldya mind grabbin' that for me Liv?"

She obliged with a mixture of dread that it would be Cragen and she would be caught in her lie, but also afraid that it wouldn't be Cragen but someone far worse. She cringed at the screen and gritted her teeth together, while picking it up and delivering it to Elliot.

She tossed it to him and picked up her briefcase as he looked down at the small screen. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened as Rebecca Hendrix's name flashed across the screen. He reluctantly lifted his shocked gaze to her rigid silhouette.

Olivia cocked one eyebrow up sharply and opened the door. "Answer your phone Elliot," she dared and then disappeared behind the heavy click of his apartment door.

Elliot's gaze returned to the desperate calls of his cell phone. "Hello?" He questioned still somewhat stunned.

"Elliot, I'm glad I got you! I apologize for calling so early, but I really need to talk to you," Rebecca stated in a flurry of words.

He sat down with a look of pure perplexion etched across his face. "What?"

Rebecca sighed softly, regrouped, and tried once more. "I tried calling you last night around ten, but I got your voicemail. I have to reschedule our session for this morning."

He drew his eyebrows closer together in thought and then smiled. "I won't be able to make it Rebecca. I got called back to work yesterday. I'm due to report to Cragen in about an hour in fact."

"I'll call and clear the time for you if you'd like. I'm sure he wouldn't mind," she replied, her words heavy with double meanings. His enthusiastic excuse to cancel wasn't lost on her.

He scowled, clearly receiving her sugar-coated threat. "Alright, see you in an hour then?"

"That'll be fine Elliot," she replied gently and ended the call.

Elliot sighed and scrubbed his hands across his tired face. "Damn women," he muttered to himself as he drank his coffee in the quiet solitude of his kitchen. It was too early in the morning to deal with women and the mysterious complexities and emotions that encompass their frustrating sex.

**Thanks for reading and for your patience and please don't forget to leave me a review!**


	11. Clarity

**A/N:** Okay so raise your hand if you thought this story was dead in the water? I'm happy to say that isn't the case. The author, being me refering to herself in the third person, just had a lazy hair up her ass. For those of you who didn't just skip down to the story, I graduated college after completing a year I thought would kill me before I made it to commencement, got a job from hell that drove me to driving nails through my eyes (okay so almost), went through some serious life adjusments (hey moving back home after living on your own isn't easy), and so I'm back with deep, sincere apologies to all. I even come back bearing gifts! I'm working on a sequal to _Ten Rounds with Jose Cuervo _and I'm very very pleased with it and excited about it :) So anyhow, feel free to reread _Company_ and refresh your memories (hey even I had to) before delving into this and I hope it meets expectations.

**Discliamer:** They belong to Dick Wolf, sadly enough. But I am lobbying for better character treatment in my spare time. Elliot and Olivia miss the glory days Dickie!

Chapter 11

Elliot starred out of Rebecca Hendrix's green trimmed window at the pouring rain. Fitting, he had decided as he watched the pristine liquid coat the city absorbing it's filth along the way down. He had never noticed how it did that before. Then again, he apparently failed to notice a lot of things. And he didn't need Rebecca's help to see that. It had been painfully etched across Olivia's face before she slammed his apartment door. And come to think of it, he recalled the expression being used quite often, and not only by her, by everyone around him.

He knitted his eyebrows together in thought. Exactly when had he become so narcissistic? He cringed. Okay maybe narcissistic was a bit harsh. Self centered? Maybe. '_More like_ _egotistic, self-absorbed, selfish...' _Olivia's voice suddenly edged into his thoughts and he fought the urge to shake his head clear of it. The last thing he wanted to do was knowingly add to his 'crazy file'.

"Elliot?"

Rebecca's voice called him out of his thoughts. "Hmm?"

"You never answered my question," she replied serenely.

He chewed the inside of his jaw. Her demeanor was really beginning to piss him off. Just exactly why was she so calm anyhow? Here he was spilling his guts, against his will might he add, and all she could do was give him cool, even glances and breezy tones. He thought she cared, that she had passion and conviction, that it would be easier to talk to her, that she wouldn't see him as just another client, because he wasn't. He was a colleague. This was exactly why he refused to ever talk to Huang. "What was that?"

"Why do you think you're selfish Elliot?"

"I said that?" He wondered when.

"While you were staring out the window," she clarified for him.

He narrowed his eyes. Damn. Maybe he was crazy after all. "I don't. Everyone around me does."

He thought he saw a smile creep into her expression. "And who might 'everyone' be?"

He glanced at the clock and sighed, scrubbing his hands down his face. God, when was this torture going to end? "Take your pick. My wife, my kids, my coworkers, my partner…"

She nodded gently. "And they've told you you're being selfish."

He sighed. "Why else would my wife ask for a separation?"

"Elliot, you know the answer to that question."

He did. He knew there were about a million reasons why marriages end. But he also knew his was ending because he was selfish. He wanted to work and to come home when he wanted to without an explanation or an argument as to why he was so late and exactly what he was doing so late. He wanted Kathy to just accept that he didn't want to talk to her about his world and that home and the job don't mix. He wanted her to understand that he needed to provide his family while she cared for it. But most of all, he knew he was selfish because he wouldn't give up his job for his family because he couldn't fathom giving up Olivia in any terms in order to come home to Kathy every night.

"Elliot, you mentioned your partner. What about Olivia?"

His jaw dropped. He didn't say **that** out loud did he? He narrowed his eyes and tried gauging her expression. But the damn thing never even wavered!

"Why do you think that Olivia would think you are selfish?" She tried again after a pregnant pause from him.

Because she'd told him so, that's why. He couldn't pin point the exact conversation, but it had to have taken place. Why else would her voice be echoing those words in his head if she'd never said them to him in the first place? Right? He scratched the back of his neck in confusion. Yea, he was definitely crazy.

"Elliot?"

He was stuck. He wasn't completely positive she ever had. But he was positive she thought it. Could he admit that to Rebecca though? That he knew his partner so completely that he could hear what she said even when she didn't say a word? That he could read her expressions, her thoughts by just glancing at her? '_Are you sure about that?'_

He tilted his head to the side. Now he was hearing things! He stared down Rebecca desperately trying to give her ownership of the intrusive voice in his head. She matched his gaze with one that would have made Olivia proud had she been there. _'Bullshit!'_

He was up in a flash and out of the door before Rebecca had time react to the sudden change in him. "Elliot?"

He charged through the building, out the door, and into the chilly rain of the thick September morning. He understood now, he had a new sense of clarity as if the rain had absorbed the layer of filth covering him too, and he was pissed off.

Fuck the rain. He closed his eyes to the anger and adrenaline he could feel pulsing just behind them. He clenched his fists.

Fuck Rebecca and her knowing looks. This was all most definitely her fucking fault! If only she hadn't prodded… If she'd just left well enough alone and hadn't made him question himself… If only she'd showed him just a little compassion and sympathy…

Fuck the full hour. He didn't need it and she certainly wasn't helping. He'd arrived at every conclusion all on his own. He didn't need her help.

Fuck Cragen and his 'order.' He'd tell him to just go ahead and fire him. The therapy was doing no good anyhow. It was only pissing him off and making him examine and discover things he didn't really want to know in the first place. They were repressed or suppressed or what the fuck ever for a reason.

Elliot slammed his fists against the top of his car. "Fuck me."

**A/N:** HeHe I really really love this chaper! I absolutely loved analyzing Elliot and writing from inside his head ;) So just what did Elliot uncover? Hmmm...


	12. Time Bomb

**AN:**_ I know this chapter has been a long time in coming and I apologize. I have struggled and wrestled and fought with it for awhile because I couldn't get the storyline to adapt to my writing format so a compromise was made. The format shifted from a straight third person narrative to a quick story within a story type format. In concession, my story had to cut out a scene and reduce it to flashbacks in the next chapter because I wasn't about to do a scene within a scene occurring at the same time as another scene. It's too confusing and this 'day' has lasted for enough chapters already. So I apologize. I know a lot of you were expecting to discover Elliot's deep dark secrets in a blubbering confession to Olivia, but that's just not his style. I have something gritty and raw and angsty and oh so Elliot and Olivia planned just for that in the next chapter :) Happy reading!_

**Disclaimer: **They aren't mine. They belong to the Wolf.

Olivia slumped back in her chair. Elliot was avoiding her. Granted, it wasn't as if she was purposely seeking him out or anything, but still, he wasn't suppose to be avoiding **her**. It was suppose to be the other way around. She was supposed to spend the day ignoring him.

Elliot had successfully avoided eye, foot, hand, breath, and every other humanly form of contact with her since he arrived at the 1-6 two hours late, soaked, and angry at the world. She had rather hoped, in the far recesses of her mind of course, that she was the one who had caused him so much anguish, but that bubble was quickly shot to hell when she heard him swearing at Rebecca and Cragen under his breath as he passed by her desk to Cragen's office without so much as a sideways glance in her direction. He had, in fact, spent the entire day avoiding their desks at all costs, or, when he absolutely **had **to sit at his desk, ignoring her presence completely. Hell, she'd even go as far as to wager he never even lifted his gaze from his feet in the entire six hours he'd been there!

He was intentionally refusing to acknowledge her or her anger and it wasn't fair! He stole her thunder and she was livid. After all, she was the avoidant one. He was the repressor of the two. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at his empty chair. "Pussy."

Munch, who was the only one in the room in ear shot of her expletive and had been watching their little soap opera unfold for the better part of the day, lifted his eyebrows at her in reply. "Is that an invitation?"

She turned toward him with a highly angry and annoyed glare.

"I take that as a 'no' then."

"Looks more like a 'fuck off dirty old man' ta me," Fin interjected taking his seat across from Munch.

Munch cut his eyes over the rim of his glasses and gave Fin a tight lipped huff. He turned back toward Olivia whose posture had noticeably straightened. He smirked in amusement as he watched Elliot cross the room with his head hung avoiding any and all eye contact. "Awe, lover's quarrel then?"

"Fuck off," Olivia growled before pushing out of her seat in pursuit of her wayward partner. "Dirty old man," she added over her shoulder before turning and meeting Elliot head on.

Elliot grabbed her upper arms, bracing the majority of her weight as she struggled with her balance. "You okay Liv?"

She bit her bottom lip and chanced a glance into his cool, blue eyes. "Just fine," she bit off, pulling her arms from his grasp and pushing past him.

He grabbed her left wrist. "Liv I…"

"No! Don't you dare 'Liv' me Stabler!" She pulled her arms out of his grasp and jabbed him in the chest with her ring finger taking care to pierce the skin peeking through his unbuttoned, loosened shirt collar. "You don't fucking get it." She added with as hiss as she seized his wrists, dragging him from Munch's prying eyes and Fin's sudden interest in the coffee pot two feet from where they were standing.

"Look, Liv…" She cut her eyes at him. "…Olivia… I've just…"

She shook her head in disbelief and gave him a tight, bitter smile. "No, **you** listen. Listen to me Elliot! For once this isn't about you, or what you want, or what you need, or how you feel!" She gave him a hard shove as he tried to placate her with his hands on her lower back. She backed out of his personal space very aware of mood shift in him. The man went from zero to horny in under 2.5 seconds! She narrowed her eyes at him and clenched her fists at her sides. That was half of the whole fucking problem with them! Sex was always lurking just beneath the surface of everything and it was driving her crazy…and… and she couldn't think straight with him so god damned near!

"Liv…" Elliot tried once more to reel her back in with his hands.

Olivia once again shook her head unconvincingly as he wrapped his hands around her hips pulling her close.

"Livia." He placed his forehead against her neck and sighed and she closed her eyes, her baser impulses winning out over her better judgment as she slid her hands up his forearms with her hands coming to rest just below the crook of his elbows.

"_We aren't getting married Liv, and we aren't dating, and I'm not going to let this interfere with our partnership. We're just having sex, that's it. We're just keeping each other company."_

His declaration from their first night together reverberated through her mind and she pushed herself out of his embrace. "No Elliot. This isn't… this isn't what I wanted." She continued to back away from him as he ran a hand over the back of his head and neck in frustration.

"I can't do this right now." She muttered, swiftly grappling for her jacket. "I have to go."

"Olivia, Christ… what? Damn it, talk to me! I don't understand."

She stopped dead in her tracks, turned, and stomped back toward him. Elliot stood straighter as she calmly regarded him, her eyes darting side to side drinking him in.

"That's your problem El, not mine," she hissed. "You've ignored me all day, ALL DAMN DAY ELLIOT, and now that you're suddenly in the mood to talk to me, you expect me to what? Jump for joy? Or is it into your arms?" She sneered. "You know what, go fuck yourself. There's an explanation for you." She turned on her heels and headed for the door. "And if you know what's good for you Stabler, you'll leave me the hell alone." She tossed over her shoulder never slowing her pace.

He held his breath as he watched her disappearing figure and swore under his breath before fiercely pounding a fist into the brick wall behind him. "Fuck me."

**EOEOEOEOEOEO**

Cragen's grimace tightened for the umpteenth time today. This just wasn't his week. "So let me get this straight. You think Benson and Stabler are… are sleeping together?"

"I didn't say that," Rebecca replied folding her arms over her knees. They'd been at this for an hour, most of which was spent calming Cragen down after he learned Elliot had stormed out of their session with fourty minutes left on the clock. "I said there is a depth of intimacy in that relationship that goes much deeper then their partnership."

"And…" Cragen prompted pinching the bridge of his nose in attempt to reign in his temper and his migraine.

"And it doesn't necessarily constitute a sexual relationship. You know better then anyone else the complexity of their relationship."

Caragen sighed and leaned back in his chair. "So, what you **are** telling me Dr. Hendrix is…"

Rebecca inhaled a shallow breath. Dr. Hendrix. Cragen wanted honesty, wanted black and white, wanted Elliot's demons on a silver platter. Damn. Right now, she felt like every inch of the bitch Olivia believed her to be. But what could she do? She'd lost her psychiatric license and could only be used as a consultant which meant she was hired for her professional opinion, confidentiality not included. Her hands were tied.

"What I'm saying is Elliot has revealed very little, and what he did, it wasn't directly conveyed. I think he does need counseling but it needs to be on his own volition and with a therapist of his choosing and not one he's forced to see. When backed into a corner with his hands tied, he naturally reverts to a defensive state of anger and barely contained aggression, which as you can imagine in neither productive nor conducive toward any type of therapy." She sighed at Cragen's thinning, tightening grimace of annoyance. "And as for his relationship with Olivia, the only revealing glimpse he gave me is the fact that he gave none at all. He actually did his best not to mention anything that had to do with Olivia and whenever I brought up her name, he skirted over it like she was never brought up."

"Dr. Hendrix…" Cragen growled in warning.

Right. That's not what he wanted to hear. She didn't figure that would work but it was worth a try. "Alright. I think they're too close." She leaned forward in her chair. "There may or may not be a relationship, but there is a mutual dependency there that is a cause for concern for me."

Cragen nodded and leaned back in his chair. "How much?"

Rebecca tilted her head and her mouth opened then closed. What was Cragen's angle on this? He had just pulled a 180 in his line of questioning and she was perplexed. First he demanded proof of a relationship between his best detectives, now he wanted to know just how concerned to be about this 'relationship' "Bottom line?"

Cragen nodded. "Whatever you feel comfortable signing off on to OnePP Rebecca."

She closed her eyes and nodded. Unofficially, he wanted her all her thoughts on Elliot his partnership with Olivia. Officially, he wanted her to white wash her sessions with Elliot in her report. It finally made sense to her. After all she had done to this department, this was her redemption. This was why Cragen asked her to evaluate Elliot. She licked her lips. "I think they are two parts of a whole that work optimally together. They thrive off of one another. Separate them Captain, and you loose your two best detectives."

Captain Cragen stood and opened his office door. "Thank you Dr. Hendrix."

Rebecca hesitated just inside the doorway and dropped her hand discreetly onto his forearm. "They are a time bomb Don. You understand?"

He understood. Hell, the fuse had already been lit. Sparks of denial and heat and anger and frustration and want were rolling off the two in plumes so heavily you couldn't breathe without inhaling it. They were going to combust. Sooner or later, Elliot and Olivia were going to explode. He just wasn't sure when or how, and he sure as hell didn't know what to do to stop it or if that was even plausible at this point. Rebecca hit the nail on the head. They were a time bomb no doubt, but if he separated them, he loses them anyway. It was the nature of the job, of this unit, and unfortunately he couldn't do a damn thing about it. "I learned to accept my hand when it comes to these things a long time ago Rebecca."

She dropped her head and nodded in understanding, offering a soft smile in parting. "Please let me know if there is anything else I can do for you in the future Captain."

He gave her a nod of acknowledgement and closed his office door to the two leering detectives to his right and the lone, shame ridden detective lost in his thoughts on his left.

"A ticking time bomb indeed," he muttered as his blinds swayed with the final movement of his door clicking shut.


End file.
